The Angel and The Doctor
by ImDreamingTheDream
Summary: AU. What if, just before he met Rose, the Doctor took with him a young orphan from the 19th century? What if she traveled in the TARDIS with him and Rose on all their adventures?
1. Prologue

The Angel and the Doctor: A Doctor Who story  


**by ImDreamingTheDream / Miranda  
**

Hi everyone, this is my first Doctor Who story. It's actually a bit of a crossover story with Les Mis, but not enough so to put it in that category. It only takes one detail from Les Mis, which I'm about to explain. Please, bear with me! This story follows the plotline of the Doctor rescuing the child Cosette (a character in Les Mis) from her abusive guardians before his meeting with Rose. All you need to know to understand it is this: Cosette is an eight-year-old orphan from the 1800s France and she is living with her guardians, the Thenardiers, who abuse her horribly. And in this story the 9th Doctor rescues her. (If it is successful I'll write more through the seasons, companions, and Doctors.)

So please have a look? I tried to write this once but nobody reviewed it so this is a rewrite. I honestly would love it if you could all read the prologue and tell me what you think ... if it's a bad premise tell me so! Anyway, I am going to shut up now so you can all tell me how this is.

This prologue has been REWRITTEN as of 06/12/14. It's a bit like when the Doctor meets young Amy.

* * *

Prologue: The Knight With the Blue Box

**December 1823**  
**Montfermeil, France**

* * *

"And will you buy us lovely dolls, Mother, and pretty new dresses?" Eponine asked her mother, or more accurately, demanded. It was Christmas Eve and today the entire village would be attending the Christmas festival. The eight-year-old was just thrilled.

Her mother smiled and kissed her daughter on the crown of the head. "Of _course_ we will, darling. And the inn will be clean and tidy when we return." Then she looked up the stairs and hollered, "COSETTE!"

Seven year old Cosette jumped at the sound of Madam shouting and she jumped to her feet, dropping the sheets of the bed she'd been making. The little girl ran down the stairs and stood trembling before her mistress, who dragged her over by the hair and took the little girl's tiny wrist in her meaty fist. The woman shook the child roughly and her shook back and forth like a doll's.

"Listen, you brat. You'd better have this place cleaned up when we get back. We'll have customers! If you don't ..." She let the threat hang there as she threw Cosette back down to the ground. The young girl fell backwards with a soft gasp of pain.

"Y-yes, Madam," she stammered.

"What were you doing up there, you little rat? Slacking again?"

Cosette answered softly: "No, Madam. I-I was only starting to make the beds in the rooms."

Her mistress ignored her, instead taking her daughter Eponine's hand. "Are you ready? Do you have your nice warm coat ready?"

Eponine smirked. "Yes, Mother. So long as _she_ didn't touch it with her filthy hands." It was clear she was speaking of Cosette, who was starting to stand and making her way back upstairs to make the beds. "I'm ready, Mother."

"That's my angel!" cooed Madame Thenardier, pinching her daughter's cheeks. Eponine giggled, and putting on her coat, skipped outside to where her father waited. The plump innkeeper's wife and the family went to the Christmas festival, probably preparing to pick a few pockets. Crowds were the only reason for the Thenardier to attend social events. It wasn't so much about their daughter, spoiled though she was.

Meanwhile, Cosette finished making the beds upstairs and began to scrub the tables down. Whenever she had to clean the entire inn, she always started with the beds upstairs, then immediately afterwards she scrubbed the tables. Then she'd sweep and scrub the floor. Afterwards she would set about polishing all the silverware (most of which was stolen) and finally, if she had time, beating the rugs. It was a great deal of long and arduous work and she usually barely finished in time. Most of the time Madam would beat her afterwards anyway.

While she scrubbed, though, the little girl suddenly heard a great crash from outside, behind the inn. To her it sounded like a carriage had crashed into the stables and overturned, then exploded. The thought of Madam's face if the stables were wrecked made her shudder. Tentatively the little girl crept to the back of the inn and peered out the window. What she saw was very strange, but at least there was no burning stable.

On its side was a large, rectangular blue box. It lay in the snow, steaming slightly. Cosette pressed her nose against the window in childlike curiosity and fascination. She was not afraid. Not even when the box faded away with a very loud whooshing noise and then reappeared right side up. The box opened its two doors and out climbed a man.

He was tall, wearing a black jacket made of material she didn't recognize. His hair was dark too, cropped close to his head, and his ears stuck out prominently. He looked around, dusting himself off, and his eyes met with hers where she watched at the window. The man smiled widely and started approach her. Cosette gasped and stepped back, running back to the front room. She began to scrub with vigor.

After a second or two, there was a tap at the window. Cosette looked up wide-eyed, and when she saw the man. she signaled for him to go around to the front. Surely he was a customer, whatever his strange blue box was. The man went around to the front and walked in.

"Hello there," he said. "Is this an inn?"

The girl nodded shyly, trembling slightly. Would he be cross that the inn was dirty? He didn't seem to care though, as he sat down in a chair and grinned at her. Cosette swallowed. "May I help you, Sir?"

"Yes actually. This is an inn. If you could get me something to eat, that'd be _fantastic_." Cosette nodded and started to make her way to the wood oven. As she began to prepare the fire, the man asked, "Where are we, exactly? What is this town?"

"We're at Montfermeil, Sir," Cosette murmured as she poured water into a pot. "I'm the only one here, though. I apologize."

The Doctor, meanwhile (for of course he was the Doctor) studied the skinny, sallow little girl preparing him food with concern. She was about eight years old, he guessed, and most likely quite poor, judging by the look of her. She wore the ragged remains of a dress that might have been pink once upon a time if it wasn't so dirty. The fabric of one of the sleeves was torn, drooping around her bone-thin shoulder to reveal the traces of scars or welts on her back. Her feet were bare even though it was a cold winter, and she was covered in soot. Her hair, light brown and stringy, hung around her thin, hollow-cheeked face and in her blue eyes was sadness and hunger. Clear hunger. What he noted, though, were the bruises down her tiny arms. At last he asked the girl, "And your mother and father left you here all alone to tend to the inn? Where are they?"

"I haven't a mother, nor a father," Cosette said softly. "But my mistress is at the Christmas Festival. Would you like carrots in your soup, Sir?"

The Doctor leaned back in his chair. "That'd be _fantastic_." He took a look at the girl. "Could you answer a question for me, little miss?"

Cosette nodded without looking up from the carrots. The man's question however, was very strange.

"What year is it?"

She turned and frowned. "Why, 1823, of course, Sir."

"1823?" The Doctor echoed. "Oh ... " He smiled at her. "Thank you." But the child had already turned around and was finishing with the soup. A few minutes later the little girl handed him a wooden bowl and spoon with a substance floating in it - by the looks of it, just hot water with floating vegetables.

The little girl took a rag and began to scrub at the table. The Doctor contemplated her. "Little girl. Little miss."

She jumped and looked up. "Yes, Sir? Is your soup satisfactory?" she bit her lip nervously. But the man was smiling at her.

"Aren't you hungry? Sit down, have a bite to eat too."

Cosette shook her head. "Oh, no, Sir. I mustn't eat yet. Not until Madam returns, and if she allows me too. The inn must be prepared by the time she returns."

"Aw, you won't need to worry about that. Here. Have my soup."

Cosette stepped back, eyes wide. "N-no, Sir. I mustn't." But he indicated the seat, and after several seconds of nervousness, stretched out into elastic, she sat. The man slid the bowl across the table, and silently she took it along with the spoon.

The Doctor grinned at the little girl in front of him. "So. What's your name then?"

Her voice was little more than a whisper. "C-Cosette," she stammered.

"Cosette? Oh, that's a good name. Brilliant name. And just how old are you, little miss?"

She'd never been addressed as _miss_ before. Madam always called her _stupid girl_, _brat_, _rat_, _idiot child_ and sometimes, when she was very cross, _idle creature_. Hearing the title made her blush shyly. "I'm seven, Sir."

"Seven. I remember being seven. Long time ago." He smiled. "Well. I'm the Doctor, by the way. Just call me the Doctor."

Cosette frowned curiously. "But Sir ... Doctor _who_?"

"Just the Doctor, little miss."

After some hesitation Cosette took a spoonful of soup. She took another, then slid the bowl back across the table. "I thank you, Sir, but I really must be getting to work now. Madam shall beat me if the inn is not cleaned."

"Doctor."

"Forgive me ... Doctor."

The Doctor frowned at the tiny creature in front of him. "Well, then. What's this about your mistress? Who is she?"

Cosette picked up her cloth and began to wipe one of the tables down. Without looking up she answered, "Madame Thenardier, Doctor. My mistress. She is my guardian and I work for her."

"And she went off to the Christmas festival leaving you here all alone, to do all this work?"

"We shall have many customers," Cosette explained.

The Doctor took a long look at the child. Nine hundred years and you noticed things. You noticed the way a person moved, you noticed the look in their eyes. And in this little girl he saw nothing but misery and fear and loneliness. She was like a frail shell. No seven-year-old deserved anything of the sort. And it was then that a thought occurred to him. It was really random and out of the blue, his life wasn't one fit for children, but broken man asked broken child:

"Would you like to come with me?"

Cosette looked up. "Come with you where, Doctor? I cannot go anywhere, the inn must - "

"To come along on an adventure with me."

She shook her head. "No, thank you. Madam will be very cross if I leave. She shall beat me and prevent me from eating the next few days."

He got out of his chair and bent down, holding his arms out and beckoning to her. "No. Madam won't find you. I'll take you to a place where she isn't going to hurt you anymore."

"But ... "

He held his arms out and she approached him, letting him take her hands in his.

"Come on. I'm here to help you."

In all Cosette's seven years, nobody had ever been kind to her. Ever. Her mother had been, once, but Cosette hadn't seen her mother since she was two, when she left her here. And all of a sudden came this strange man with a strange blue box who showed her such kindness and care.

"Madam ... won't find me?"

"No."

"Are you quite certain?"

"'Course. I'll keep you safe."

And Cosette nodded. "All right."

**.**

He took her by the hand and marched her straight out of the inn and out back. He'd asked her to gather her things but Cosette didn't have anything. All she owned was a little doll she'd made herself, a few knotted rags. "Is that all?" he'd asked her and she nodded.

Now he walked right up to his blue box. "Close your eyes," he told her, and she shut them, driven to obeying. She could hear him opening the doors and she didn't know what was happening, but she obeyed. She felt his hands on her shoulders as he guided her forth. They were walking _into_ his blue box. But why?

"Open," he said gently, and she opened her eyes.

Cosette's jaw dropped, unable to take the awe away from her face. She began to tremble slightly from the shock of it and she felt her knees give way. She was still shaking when the Doctor bent down next to her. "You're in shock," he said. "That's okay. Happens to everyone."

She craned her neck to look around the immense room, the room cramped into this tiny blue box. "B-but ... it's ... it's bigger on the inside, Sir!"

"I know. Just give yourself a moment, it's okay."

Cosette swallowed. "D-doctor?" she asked hesitantly. She didn't like to ask questions. She wasn't supposed to, but the Doctor was no normal man, and perhaps he would not mind terribly if she just asked a little one. "Doctor, how can this be?"

"It's my ship," he explained shortly, walking up to the funny machinery in the middle of the big room. "Called the TARDIS. Stands for Time And Relative Dimension In Space. Because this ship of mine is no ordinary ship, little miss."

"I don't understand."

He turned to look at her. " ... This ship, my ship, it's a spaceship. It can fly all the way up to the stars in a few minutes. It's very special."

Cosette stood slowly, pressing herself against the doors. "Are there others ships like yours?"

He felt his hearts stop. Other TARDISes. Somewhere out there. Once, a long time ago. Not anymore. "Well, no ... it's the only one. And it doesn't just fly up to the stars. Would you like to know where else it can go?"

She caught herself nodding.

"It travels through time. Do you know what that means?"

She didn't but she nodded anyway. "Um ... yes, Doctor. I do." She prayed he wouldn't expect her to know what it meant. Because she didn't.

He seemed to understand this. "Do you? You're a clever girl. And I promise, I promise to keep you safe. Does that makes sense? That _madam_ of yours, she won't hurt you anymore."

"Yes, Doctor."


	2. Rose part I

The Angel and the Doctor

**by ImDreamingTheDream / Miranda  
**

**(I know this one is short, and late, but hey...don't kill me!)**

* * *

Chapter One: Where Mannequins Are Not Safe  
("Rose" part I)

**The TARDIS**

* * *

She seemed to be taking the situation well. She sat and looked around the console room. After several long minutes of a very awkward silence, the Doctor asked, "So ... you might want a bath."

Cosette looked down, embarrassed. "Oh, no, Sir - I mean, Doctor ... I've never been allowed a bath before. Madam and Monsieur wouldn't let me."

"Well, I'm letting you. So go, have a bath, and put on something nice!" He waved vaguely at the air. It seemed to take the Doctor a moment to realize the funny look she gave him. "Ah, yes," the Doctor said awkwardly. "Well, the bathroom is down those steps, corridor to your left, at the end of it turn right, sixth door to your left. There's a room across the hall with clothes in it. You can pick anything you like."

Cosette shook her head. "I don't understand. How big _is_ this place, Doctor?"

"Big." the Doctor confirmed. "Now, off with you." He pointed down the steps, still grinning widely. Cosette jumped slightly and all but ran down the steps. The Doctor had given her an order and she had to follow orders. When Cosette didn't do what Madam told her, she'd be beaten.

But this place wasn't like Madam and Monsieur's place. It was strange and large. There were no drunken men at the tables for her to clean up when they vomited all over themselves. She didn't have to sweep any floors, and instead of hearing nothing but angry shouts and feeling nothing but angry blows and the sting of snow beneath bare feet, she liked this place. It was so different. The Doctor was kind to her, and he carried her and held her gently, just as her mother used to.

Maybe this was a good place. She was starting to like it here.

* * *

Cosette emerged shortly later, clean and dressed in a fresh white gown that went to her knees. Her face was smooth and free of dirty streaks. The light dusting of pale freckles sprinkling her little face was clearer, not obscured by soot. Her light brown hair was straight and combed - she must have used the one by the sink - and the sight of her made him take a step back. the Doctor swallowed briefly. He'd seen that face before.

It was like his daughter's face, when she'd been young. Before she was dead. Before they were all dead. But he put on a grin and held out his arms. "There we are!" he said, still grinning. "Now, how about we go on and start our .. travels?"

"But where will we be going?" Cosette asked, hurrying over to join him by the console panel.

The Doctor winked. "The question, little miss, is not _where_ but _when_."

_What a strange question._ "Very well ... when will we be going, Doctor?"

"We'll have to find out."

* * *

Little more than a minute later, sparks erupted from the console panel and the Doctor fell backward. Cosette stumbled too, and he caught her. "Whoops! Now, I'm taking you to a very, er, different place than what you know. And I am receiving warning signals ... we might have a few issues ... so, Cosette, you'll want to be on guard. We might run into some trouble."

"I'll be good, Sir - Doctor," she corrected herself hurriedly. Cosette swallowed and looked at him nervously. But he seemed unfazed and offered his hand, which she took.

"Are you ready?"

"Yes, Doctor."

He didn't let go of her hand and he didn't say a word. He pushed open the door of his "carriage" - the TARDIS, he'd called it, and they stepped outside together. Cosette's jaw dropped.

* * *

**March 2005  
London, England**

* * *

"What a strange place this is, Doctor! It's like nothing I've ever seen before! Where are we?" Cosette craned her neck, taking the bizarreness of this place in. She'd thought the TARDIS was odd. But this place was different.

It was larger, with more open spaces, and loud noises. Beneath her feet was a strange black tar-like substance Cosette was not familiar with, and her new shoes made her toes feel funny too. Huge metal creatures crawled along the black tar, making honking noises. The buildings seemed to be taller than anything she'd even seen, and many seemed to be made of glass. As she and the Doctor walked on, they began to run into other people. But the people were all dressed so oddly, and there were so many of them! Almost all of the ladies wore trousers and most of the men wore waistcoats.

"This is London, England," the Doctor explained. "In the year 2005. Heard of it?"

She nodded. "yes, but it's nothing at all like France, Doctor! I do not understand, however, what you mean by _the year 2005_. That's two hundred years from now! Nearly, anyhow. How can we be two hundred years from now?"

The Doctor stopped. She'd told him she understood everything, but she was only a child, and from the 1800s at that. Did the concept of time travel even exist in her time? HG Wells has not yet written his famous book, after all. Cosette must have lied about understanding, but that was all right.

"We're in the future," he said slowly. "We traveled through time and we went to the future."

She stared. "So ... it isn't 1823 any longer?"

"No," the Doctor said gently. "It's 2005. Does that make sense?"

She cocked her head to one side, and, after a great deal of thought, she came to a conclusion. "Yes ... I believe it does, Sir - I meant to say, Doctor. Forgive me."

"There's nothing to be sorry for - " the Doctor started to say, then stopped short in his tracks. He pulled out a strange device, small like a pencil, but made of metal. It began to make a funny sort of whirring noise. The Doctor held it out in front of him before turning swiftly to Cosette. "We have to run now!"

They ran.

Cosette hurried to keep up with him, her arm feeling like it was being yanked out of its socket as she stumbled. Not that it was a feeling she wasn't used to. At last, she summed up the courage to ask, "But Doctor, where are we running to?" She winced internally. She wasn't supposed to ask questions.

Questions meant beatings.

"A shop!" he called back brightly. "A big, big, shop! Called Henrik's! We're going to go in there and ... well! The living plastic is here to start a war, might overthrow the human race!" The Doctor used such strange words. _Plastic_. What was plastic? What did it want with humans? And just where was she?

But she didn't dare to ask these questions, and when you're running you tend to move a little quicker than normal. They'd arrived at the shop the Doctor called Henrik's. And it was, like everything else Cosette had seen so far, strange and unusual and big.

The building was large and tall and box-like. There were quite a lot of windows, and mannequins stood in these windows draped in strange clothing rather like what many of the people in London wore.

"Is this it?" Cosette asked quietly, and the Doctor nodded.

He took her inside. It was not like the shops Cosette knew. No, Henrik's had shiny reflective tiled floors, like a palace, and there were racks and shelves full of clothing, the strange clothing with strange materials. There was one mannequin, small, wearing a pretty blue dress down to its false knees. Cosette stopped before it, reaching out to touch the fabric -

The Doctor stopped her. "Don't," he said, "it's not safe."

She didn't see how a mannequin couldn't be safe, but she didn't say anything.

After this, the Doctor ushered her through the store (which was enormous) and into a door at the back. It didn't look the kind of place you'd be allowed in, but she followed him dutifully with her skirt bouncing at her knees. He led her through the basement (where there were more, naked mannequins standing about abandoned) and up to a pair of silver doors.

"Now," the Doctor said quietly. "Stay here and don't move. I need to follow the signal, where there's activity. If ... anything comes for you ... er, take this."

he gave her a crowbar, and was gone.


	3. Rose part II

The Angel and the Doctor  


**by ImDreamingTheDream / Miranda  
**

**_(Just to clarify ... I'm going to be writing from several more POVs from now on, mostly that of Rose and Cosette because I could never get into the Doctor's head. So I'm going to be sticking in whose POV I'm writing in. This one is written from Rose's POV mostly, but there'll be more time for Cosette's POV in later chapters. I'm also switching to present tense now that we're officially out of the "Prologue" territory.)  
_**

* * *

Chapter Two: Roses and Plastic  
("Rose part II)

**March 2005**  
**London, England**

* * *

_~Rose's POV~_

The door behind Rose slams shut with a bang. The blonde spins around, and rattles the door handle. It's more of a reflex really, than any actual worry. After all, it's always been drafty down here. Locked. It's weird, but there's another exit on the other side. She starts to head towards it.

Still, she's never been fond of basements, even though she knows there isn't anything here that could be of any potential danger. Just the old plastic store mannequins that nobody's using. Her pace picks up, but she detects movement out of the corner of her eye. She turns her head to see - but no, it can't be - one of the mannequins moving towards her.

Probably some idiot's idea of a joke. "Wilson?" she calls out. "Wilson, is that you?"

The mannequin comes closer, and Rose takes a step back. But no, there's one behind her, coming for her. No, not coming _for_ her, that's stupid. "This isn't funny!" Rose shouts. "Wilson?"

More of them. She backs up against a wall, pressing herself flat against it. "Wilson?!" she yells. "Stop it! This ain't funny..."

Now they've got her surrounded. Rose feels like a girl in a horror movie, the one who's backed up into a corner with the killer coming for her. She shuts her eyes, willing it to stop - something brushes against her hand and she's ready to scream -

A hand closes around hers and she whips her head to the side to see a man. It isn't Wilson, but a man. Probably in his mid thirties, he has piercing blue eyes and dark hair cropped close to his head. He has absolutely _ridiculous_ ears that stick out to the sides.

But it's his intensity that catches her attention. He smiles, and one word comes from his mouth.

"Run."

She runs.

* * *

To the lift they run, with the mannequins just behind them. She's not sure she should call them mannequins anymore, because whatever they are, they're moving and mannequins don't move. Robots?

The man doesn't let go of her hand, but he reaches pulls Rose along and then she sees it. There comes the swift movement of ... a crowbar? A small girl in a white dress is pressed against the corner, a crowbar in her little hands. She swings it right and left with half a sob still in her throat.

"It's all right. I'm here," the man tells her, reaching out his other hand. The little girl drops her crowbar so fast she nearly drops it on her toe, and she holds fast to his hand. The man pulls both of them into the lift in a flurry. The doors start to close, but one arm gets stuck.

The little girl screams.

The man swiftly detaches the plastic arm from the body, and the doors close. The lift starts to make an agonizing ascent. Rose leans against the walls, breathing hard.

Meanwhile, the little girl has dropped onto the ground, her breath coming out shakily as she trembles slightly. Now Rose can take a closer look at her, while she _isn't_ being attacked by mannequin plastic robot things. The girl can't be more than nine years old. She's skinny, too skinny to be healthy. Her light brown hair frames a hollow-cheeked little face. The girl's eyes are a sharp sort of blue, like the man's, but not quite the same shade. Her dress is pure white with short sleeves and goes to her bony knees. In the light Rose can see her thin arms. She thinks she sees what looks like bruises down one arm, but it's hard to tell.

She turns her attention to the Doctor. "What the _hell_ was that?" she gasps.

"Autons," the man replies shortly. "Nothing you need to worry about." He throws the plastic arm to Rose, which she scrabbles to catch. As the doors to the lift open, he waves at them with his hand as he steps out. "Go on; back with your life." He waves to the little girl with a much gentler movement, and slowly, she rises to her feet and follows him.

Rose steps out after him and crosses her arms over her chest. She doesn't know what Autons are, or what's going on, but this man seems to know and she thinks she'd fancy knowing too. Before that, though, another question slips from her mouth.

"Where's Wilson?" Rose demands.

The little girl looks between them as the man turns to Rose. "Who's Wilson?"

"He works down here, and I was looking for him. Where is he?"

"Oh." The man frowns slightly. "Then Wilson's dead." He takes the little girl's hand and hoists her up onto his shoulders as he turns to go.

Rose grabs his arm. "How do you mean, Wilson's dead. And you're just gonna go swanning off like that? Tell me what's going on!"

The man reaches into his pocket with his free arm and pulls out a small metal box with blinking lights. "This is a detonator," he explains. "I have to blow up the building to stop the plastic things."

"What _are_ they?" Rose demands. When the man doesn't answer her, she looks at the little girl perched on his shoulders. "Do _you_ know what's going on?"

She shook her head. "N-No, Miss. I'm sorry, Miss."

Rose throws her arms in the air. "You don't even tell your own kid?"

In response, the man shakes his arm free. "I really do need to go ... Oh, and get rid of that arm." This time, he starts to head quickly away. The doors close behind him, but just a second later they open again. "Oh, I'm the Doctor, by the way. What's your name?"

"Rose. Rose Tyler," she stutters.

"Nice to meet you, Rose Tyler. Run for your life!"

The doors close again, and Rose takes off. She's barely across the street when the building she was just in blows up.

_~Cosette POV~_

The Doctor took her back to his carriage-ship, at last gently settling the wide-eyed eight year old down.

"Doctor ... " she asked hesitantly. "What were those things?"

The Doctor, who was already fiddling with the buttons. He turned to look at her. "They're aliens. From another planet. Do you know what aliens are?"

Slowly, she nodded. She hadn't heard of aliens before, but she hoped the Doctor wouldn't find that out. He might hurt her if he found out she didn't know. He might decide she was too much of a bother to keep around and take her back to Madam and Monsieur, or worse, leave her in the strange streets of London, a place she didn't understand.

"That's good." The Doctor said. "Fantastic. All right, so, little miss, those are called Autons and they are aliens. But they've come to Earth and we have to stop them."

Cosette nodded again. "Yes, Doctor."

He grinned at her. "Oh, you're fantastic, you are, little miss." He turned back to fiddling with the buttons.

Cosette watched him. Absently, and out of instinct, she began to brush the dust away from a spot next to her. A thought slipped into her mind. She was thinking about the young lady, Miss Rose. What was going to happen to her? After a silence, she dared to ask the question. "Doctor? Whatever shall happen to Miss Rose?"

"Oh, her? She'll be fine. I doubt we'll be seeing her again."


End file.
